


Family Secrets

by Shaddyr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Enemies to Friends, Fandom Snowflake Challenge, Multi, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Trope Bingo Amnesty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 03:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13355985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaddyr/pseuds/Shaddyr
Summary: 'He'd expected to be sad, but in that happy way that came from filling in missing pieces, the same as every other time he'd learned something new about his family. Harry hadn't expected that, almost a year after defeating him,  Voldemort would still be able to strike from the grave and take yet something else away from him.'





	Family Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Lily's Lullaby](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13286388) by [Shaddyr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaddyr/pseuds/Shaddyr). 



It was a day that began like most others at Hogwarts, the sounds of silverware clinking and students talking over breakfast in the Great Hall. Harry was just tucking into his second helping of bacon when the owls began to drop off students' daily post. With no warning, a large grey owl dropped a sizable brown paper envelope on the table in front of him. He froze, a rasher of bacon half way into his mouth, and stared at the unexpected delivery.

"Do close your mouth, Harry," Hermione admonished, reaching for the envelope.

Harry rolled his eyes and crammed the entire piece in his mouth. He grabbed his napkin and wiped his hands before reaching out for the packet Hermione was inspecting. "C'mon, Hermione, give it over!"

"Hmm, it looks like it's from the Ministry," she commented handing it to him and sliding closer to watch with interest as he flipped it over to break the wax seal and tear it open.

"What is it?" Ron asked from the other side of Hermione, his attention split between his bacon and the package.

"Looks like a bunch of papers," Harry said as he gently eased the stack of parchments and documents out of the envelope and set it on the table in front of him. "There's a letter here, too," he said as he picked up the parchment on top.

"Well?" Hermione demanded, craning over to get a better look, but Harry turned slightly and leaned back, keeping the letter just out of her view.

"Give me a second," he said shaking his head, giving her a fondly exasperated look. "Gotta make sure it's nothing private after all."

"Oh, please," she said and extended her hand expectantly. "You're just going to ask me to read it anyway, and I'm sure you'd much rather see what else you have there," she said, pointing with her chin at the papers in front of him.

Ron laughed. "She's got you there, mate."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know, sometimes it's really annoying that you know me so well," he said as he handed it to her and turned his attention to the pile of papers in front of him.

Ron peered over Hermione's shoulder at the letter. "What's this then? A letter from Shacklebolt? What's he want?"

"Dear Mr. Potter," Hermione began to read as Harry leafed through the papers. "The Order of the Phoenix would like to take this opportunity…" she trailed off. "Hrm… blah, blah, blah, heroic battle, etcetera, etcetera… oh here we are. Recently the Order has been clearing out a backlog of items in storage. Last week, the secretary discovered a box with some papers and personal effects that were retrieved from your family home in Godric's Hollow and have been in storage ever since." She gasped slightly and looked over at Harry in wide-eyed astonishment.

Harry was staring in wonder at the papers before him. Some of them were legal documents – his birth certificate, a bank statement from Gringotts, his parent's marriage licence – and some appeared to be handwritten notes or letters. His mouth went dry as he began to read the first few parchments he'd found under the legal papers. "I… I think these are letters between my parents," he said in a hushed tone as he caressed the writing on one of the pages. It was addressed, 'My Darling Lily,' and the one beneath it began with, 'Dearest James'. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "What else does the letter say?" he asked, his voice unsteady.

Hermione shared a glance with Ron before turning back to the letter. She took a deep breath and began again. "I apologize at the delay in getting these items to you. They have not been inventoried, other than to make sure there were no dark curses or spells present, as I wanted to preserve your privacy regarding what appear to be personal family effects." Hermione paused and looked over at Harry again. He was slowly sorting through the pile when a photograph slipped out from between two pages. He caught it before it fell to the floor.

In the picture, his mother was holding him and baby Harry smiled up at her. She leaned in to touch her nose to his, which made baby Harry giggle madly. His mother tossed her head back with a joyful smile before it looped again.

"Oh, Harry, that's lovely," Hermione said as she slipped an arm around his shoulders. "What a wonderful addition for your photo album."

He just nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and then reached for the next paper. This one looked a little different, not formatted like a letter, but instead looked rather like a poem. In the top right hand corner, there was a little note that said 'for baby book – Oct, 27'. Harry felt like he'd been hit by a bludger when the significance of the date hit him.

"Harry? You alright, mate?"

He looked up to see Ron had moved over to sit on the other side of him so that he was flanked by him and Hermione on either side. It effectively gave him as much privacy as it was possible to have in the Great Hall at breakfast. Harry glanced around the table briefly only to find that, while he was getting a few curious looks from his housemates, everyone seemed to understand it was not a good time to intrude. He suddenly realized Hermione was probably glaring down anyone who looked his way too long, and despite his discomfiture, he managed a smile. He really did have the very best friends.

"Yeah," he muttered with a nod. "Just…" he stared down at the parchment in his grasp, willing himself to unclench where he had it in his fingers, running his thumb of the wrinkles he left on the edge. "I think my mother wrote this. 'Sweet Dreams, My Dear Harry' –" Harry looked over at Ron. "Sounds like a lullaby, yeah?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, it does," he said, a gentle smile on his face.

"Oh, what a wonderful thing to find!" Hermione said, and Harry smiled at her enthusiasm. He looked back down at the parchment, his two friends leaning in close to read along with him. Hermione began to hum, and he glanced her way, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"Just trying to get a feel for a tune," she said, blushing slightly. "I'm sure your mother sang it to you, after all."

"Well, you can be my official tune writer," Harry pronounced. She rolled her eyes and was just about to say something when Ron swore. Harry and Hermione looked over at him in surprise, only to find him staring at Harry with abject sorrow.

"I am so, very sorry, mate," Ron said slowly, settling a solid hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Ron, what is it?" Hermione demanded, but he shook his head.

"Just read it, Hermione," Ron said.

Harry's eyes were drawn back to the lullaby. When he got to the last verse, he drew a ragged, painful breath and felt Ron's hand tighten on his shoulder.

"No," he breathed out his denial, this time not able to fight back the tears that had been threatening since he first realized the package contained papers concerning his parents. He'd expected to be sad, but in that happy way that came from filling in missing pieces, the same as every other time he'd learned something new about his family. But this?

He stared down at the words, now blurred through his tears.

>   
>  Goodnight, my dear sweet darling boy,  
>  One more thing that's soon to be,  
>  There will be another,  
>  You'll be a big brother,  
>  A secret between you and me  
> 

Harry hadn't expected that, almost a year after defeating him, Voldemort would still be able to strike from the grave and take yet something else away from him.

A gasp from Hermione indicated she'd read it, too. "Oh, Harry," she cried, and quite suddenly, he was completely overwhelmed. He couldn't handle both Hermione's grief and his own. He had barely come to terms with losing Sirius, Remus, Fred and all the many others who had died protecting him. To find out that he should have been a big brother was like a curse ripping through his chest, tearing what peace he'd managed to gain in the last year to shreds.

Harry sprang to his feet and scrambled back from the table, almost tripping over the bench in his haste. He knocked his plate and half the papers to the floor. As important as they were, he could feel his tenuous control slipping and knew he had to get out before he lost it entirely. He dimly heard Ron and Hermione calling him, but he just kept staring at the carpet, putting one foot in front of the other as he headed for the door.

"How very graceful, Potter." Malfoy's snide voice cut through his sorrow, transforming it to icy rage in a heartbeat, and he jerked to a stop. "With moves like that, it's amazing you… can..."

Malfoy's taunt trailed off into silence as he caught sight of Harry's face. Harry knew he must look a mess, eyes red and puffy, tear streaked face – and for one, brief instant, all he wanted to do was _hurt_ Malfoy – _Sectumsempra, Crucio, Avada Kedevra,_ all at once – and suddenly, a terrible cracking noise echoed through the hall as the Slytherin table shuddered and split down the middle from one end to the other.

The hall went utterly silent. Malfoy recovered his voice first. "What the hell, Potter?" he said, his attempt at nonchalance betrayed by the way he paled and his voice shook.

"Fuck you, Malfoy!" Harry hissed in response and then fled the hall, Ron right behind him.

 

* * * * * *

Draco sat there, staring at the fractured table as speculation over what just happened buzzed around him. He'd only meant to take the piss – second nature where Potter was concerned, even with their unspoken but mutually recognized semi-truce since school had started. His comment had barely been offensive compared to some of the other insults they'd traded this year. But Potter's face – he'd looked positively incandescent with fury, and for a moment Draco had been worried he might have to dodge a curse. And while he was certainly glad the table took the blow, Draco knew that for Potter's accidental magic to manifest like that over a modest jibe meant something was seriously wrong in his world.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?"

His head snapped up and he found Granger glaring at him, clutching the stack of papers that had previously been scattered over the table and floor. And she clearly wasn't done. "I thought that, just maybe, you had changed a little, but you just had to attack him when he was down."

He scowled, feeling mildly guilty and resentful over it. "Oh, come on!" he protested. "I was just having a bit of fun at seeing the great seeker tripping over his own two feet! Why is it my fault that he has his knickers in a twist this morning?"

Her jaw clenched as she struggled with what to say, and Draco realized with a shock that she was crying. "Granger, are you… are you quite alright?" he asked, feeling as surprised as she looked that he had asked.

She drew herself up, took a deep breath, and then let it out evenly and fixed him with a hard look. "Malfoy, for once in your self-centered life, can you please just… leave off? For just one day, stop being a selfish, arrogant prick and let him alone?" Her voice broke into a sob at the end, changing the demand to a plea. Without waiting for his response, she turned and ran out of the hall, presumably to catch up with Potter and the Weasel.

"Well! Who does she think she is, ordering you around like that?" Pansy was outraged on his behalf and started nattering on about high strung Gryffindors and their superiority complexes. Draco tuned her out as he puzzled it over. He was definitely missing something here.

"Draco, are you coming?" Pansy asked, grabbing her bag as she got up. "Blaise and Theo want to go to Hogsmead. Should we wait for you?"

"Got a couple things to take care of," he said, still pondering the mystery of Potter's meltdown.

She shrugged. "Fine, I'll pick you up a sugar quill at Honeydukes. Ta!"

As she walked away, Draco turned his attention to the now almost empty Gryffindor table. Potter's plate was still on the floor, and when he peered closer, he saw there were a few stray papers still under the table where the three of them had been sitting.

He vacillated for a moment – he could just avoid the Golden Trio entirely for the rest of the day in hopes that by tomorrow Potter had recovered his sanity. On the other hand, he could retrieve the papers and return them to Potter to show he hadn't intended any harm. Of course, that might just cause a bigger problem if Potter was still angry. He rolled his eyes. As if he was going to pass up an opportunity like this. He pulled out his wand and discretely flicked it below the table.

"Accio parchment!" he said quietly, and quickly tucked the papers into his bag before making his way out of the Hall.

He wasn't really sure why, but he found that he honestly wanted to show Granger that he wasn't the arrogant prick she thought he was. Or at least not all the time – he was good at being an arrogant prick, after all. But ever since the war had ended, the hate and pureblood nonsense was burned out of him, and he had been afflicted with this odd desire to try and make things… if not _right_ , exactly, at least better with the very people he'd shared a mutual loathing with for the last seven years.

There was also the fact that no self-respecting Slytherin would pass up an opportunity like this. Those papers might afford him some insight into why the Prat Who Lived to Annoy him had been so upset he'd accidentally split a solid wooden table in half in a fit of pique. He needed to inspect them to make sure they were in pristine shape when he returned them to Potter after all.

He found a quiet, slightly out of the way alcove down the hall to settled into and began to read.

 

******

 

Harry sat on a bench in the courtyard, knees drawn up to his chest. He had one arm wrapped around his legs and his face was tucked into the crook of his other elbow. Ron stood sentinel beside him; after catching up with him, he'd briefly grasped Harry's shoulder and murmured, "I'm here for you, mate," then let go and given Harry some space, shooing other students away if they got too close.

Harry struggled to get his ragged breathing under control and rein in his emotions. The last thing he wanted to do was cause any more damage to the castle so many people had worked hard to restore. After a few minutes, he felt someone settle down on the bench beside him and lifted his face enough to see Hermione gazing compassionately at him.

"I gathered up your papers," she said, showing him the messy stack she held. "You just… relax a bit and I'll straighten them out and put them back in the envelope. You can look through the rest of them when you're ready, okay?"

He nodded and drew a shuddering breath, then turned his head and set his chin on the back of his hand to watch her as she carefully stacked the parchments and documents in a semblance of order.

"Sorry for storming off like a prat," he said, voice rough with emotion.

She leaned into him, pressing against his side. "You're not a prat," she said, tilting her head forward until their foreheads touched. "I think you terrified the Slytherins," she continued with a small laugh as she pulled away and turned her attention back to sorting. "Even Malfoy looked shocked when I stopped by to tell him to bugger off and leave you alone."

"I didn't mean to do that." Harry shook his head. "He just made me so _angry_ , and then suddenly, the table was in pieces." He groaned and turned his face back into the crook of his elbow. "Professor McGonagall is going to kill me!" he said, voice muffled by his jumper. "I'll be lucky if she doesn't give me detention for the rest of the year!"

"I'm sure it won't be that bad, mate" Ron said, tone hopeful. Harry lifted his head and gave him a disbelieving look. Ron's smile faltered. "Erm. Okay, yeah, you probably will get detention."

"Where _are_ they?" Hermione muttered and both boys looked back at her.

"Where's what?" Ron asked peering down at the papers she was shuffling through frantically.

"The picture and the lullaby," she said, biting her lip as she flipped through the papers again. "I can't find them." She looked at Harry, stricken. "I must have missed a few papers on the floor. Maybe they fell under the table. I'm sorry; I'll go back and look right now!"

"I think these are what you're looking for, Granger." The three of them looked up to find Draco approaching, holding the missing items out toward them.

"Ferret!" Ron spit out, stepping forward to block his approach. "Those are Harry's! Give them here and get lost!"

Draco didn't resist as Ron snatched the papers from his hand, instead simply side stepping him to get a clear line of sight on Harry. "Potter, I need to speak to you."

Hermione jumped to her feet, standing directly in front of Harry. "I told you to leave him alone, Malfoy!"

Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm not here to start anything, Granger, honestly. I just need to talk to him. Please."

"It's ok, Hermione," Harry said from behind her. She turned and gave Harry a searching look, then sighed and stepped out of the way. She fixed her glare on Draco.

"You better watch what you say," she warned him, clenching a fist. "Or this time, I'll knock you on your arse!"

Draco reared back from her slightly glancing warily at her hand before nodding and edging around her, finally bringing his gaze back to Harry.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked with a sigh. The emotional turmoil was catching up with him and he felt exhaustion creeping in.

Draco fidgeted for a moment, cleared his throat and looked down at the ground. Harry was just about to ask again when Draco finally spoke.

"I always wanted a younger brother," he said, looking off into the distance, nervously twisting his signet ring as he spoke. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but many Pureblood families have only one child. Sometimes, this is a choice to avoid inheritance squabbles, but other times – more often than many would be willing to admit – it has more to do with, ah, difficulties conceiving."

"Too much inbreeding," Hermione said, and Draco's head whipped around to scowl at her. She shrugged. "That's what happens when the gene pool is too small, Malfoy. I can explain the muggle science behind it, but that's what it is. Genetic errors result in a high incidence of non-viable fetuses and miscarriages."

His nose flared, and it was obvious he was struggling to keep from making a biting remark. "I do understand why it happens," he said through gritted teeth, then closed his eyes for a moment and took a calming breath. "And you're not wrong. Even the Purebloods are beginning to accept they need to introduce new blood to survive."

"So what has that got to do with anything?" Ron asked, scowling at Draco with his arms crossed.

Draco opened his mouth, then shut it again, clearly conflicted about what to say next. "I –" he cut himself off and shook his head. "You know what, this was a bad idea." He turned on heel, about to leave when Harry called out.

"Malfoy, wait."

Draco froze in place, but didn't turn back to face Harry. "So, you wanted a little brother?" he prompted, watching Draco's face from the side as it twisted into a complicated expression.

"I did," he continued. "When I was 8 years old, my parents conceived again." He smiled sadly. "My mother was so happy, and I was excited – she was going to let me pick the colours for the nursery. Unfortunately, she miscarried in her third month."

Harry's felt a wave of sorrow and compassion flood through him. "I'm sorry, Malfoy."

Draco nodded. "Thank you," he said, swallowing as he struggled to keep his composure. "But that… that's not all of what I wanted to tell you." He drew another shaky breath, then ran and hand through his hair before folding his arms protectively over his chest.

Without conscious thought, Ron and Hermione pulled in closer, listening quietly as Draco closed his eyes and continued.

"Early in 7th year, after the Dark – after Voldemort had taken over the Manor, my mother discovered that she had unexpectedly become pregnant again." He let out a wry laugh. "It was nothing short of miraculous, given her age and the previous complications. The healers had told her she'd never be able to have another child." Draco opened his eyes and stared off into the distance.

"When the snatchers brought you to the Manor and I didn't identify you… and then we let you get away… the – Voldemort was very angry, as you might imagine."

"Oh, no," Hermione murmured softly, voice quavering and Harry felt his heart sink.

"My mother was almost 5 months pregnant at that point," Malfoy continued, voice shaking now. "My father and I were the only ones who knew, but I think it highly unlikely that V-Voldemort would have spared her, even if he had been aware. He crucioed us all of course, as he did with everyone who failed him. Mother went into labour almost immediately, and it took all night for her to deliver my little sister – stillborn. Voldemort had tortured her to death while she was still inside my mother's body."

Hermione let out a quiet sob, and Ron wrapped an arm around her, his attention still riveted to Draco.

"I just wanted – I needed you to know, Potter." Draco finally looked up at him, his face as red and tear streaked as Harry's. "I would never mock or tease you, not about _this_ ," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry."

Harry unfolded his legs, stood up and walked over to Draco, stopping right in front of him. Draco tensed, turning his face away slightly, grimacing as if expecting a blow. Harry studied him for a moment, and then did what he'd always done and followed his instincts. He threw his arms around Draco with no warning, enfolding him in a hug.

"I'm sorry too," he said, tightening his grip when Draco startled in his grasp. He wondered if Draco might fight to pull free, but quite unexpectedly, he returned the embrace. He clutched Harry almost desperately, letting his forehead come to rest against Harry's shoulder. He felt Draco begin to tremble and then let out a sob, his entire body shaking with grief. Hot tears soaked into the collar of his jumper, and Harry felt his own start to flow again.

"I never meant… I just wanted to…" Draco choked words out around the tears. "I don't _understand_ you Potter! You're the one who just found out you lost a sibling, why are you comforting _me_?"

Not sure what to say, Harry just shrugged and ran his hand back and forth over Draco's back in a soothing motion. He drew a shuddering breath and held on, mourning the loss of the siblings neither of them had ever had the chance to know.

"Joy shared is increased, and pain shared is lessened," Hermione said through her sniffles, wrapping her arms tightly around Ron in search of comfort. "There's no reason to suffer alone when others are willing to share the burden with you."

"But…" Draco struggled for words, face still hidden against Harry. "You can't _stand_ me. Why would my suffering matter to you at all?" he asked, his voice raw as he let out a bitter laugh. "I would expect you to say that it served my family right and we got what we deserved."

Ron cleared his throat. "I may not like you, Malfoy, but the war is over. And I reckon suffering is still suffering, no matter which side you were on. And, um…" he faltered a moment before going on. "I know what it's like to lose a brother, and see my mother grieve her son. I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone."

They stood there a few more minutes, Draco's sobs gradually fading into deep, shuddering breaths. When Harry felt him start to stiffen and pull away, he loosened his grip and took a step back, dropping his chin and attempting to catch Draco's eye. Draco evaded his gaze, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground, and Harry sighed as he disengaged entirely, feeling strangely bereft at the loss as Draco pulled free.

"Are you going to be alright?"

"Of course," Draco scoffed, but the arrogance was just a thin veneer over the pain and confusion deeply etched in his face. He squared his shoulders, head held high and turned to walk away.

Hermione sighed. "Malfoy," she began and then shook her head. "Draco."

He stopped, looking back at her in surprise. "I don't like the thought of you being alone right now," she continued, chin up, facing him almost defiantly. "You… you should come and hang out with us for a bit. We're just going to go and sit down by the lake for a while."

He blinked several times, glancing over and Harry and then Ron before returning his gaze to her. "I... I'll be fine," he fine he said, clearly nonplussed by the invitation. "I don't want to intrude." He seemed to recover himself then, a hint of his familiar smirk returning. "Besides, my reputation would be ruined if I was spotted hanging out with a bunch of Gryffindors."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and then back at Draco.

"Hate to break it to you mate," Harry said with a smirk of his own. "But I think it already is," He gestured at the courtyard behind him.

Draco looked over to see dozens of students standing around, watching them and whispering to each other. They might not know what it was about, but it was obvious many of them had been witness to his humiliation. "Bollocks," he swore quietly, chin dropping to his chest as he shook his head. "My life is about to become hell."

"Well, I guess that means hanging out with us can't really make it any worse then," Harry piped up with a tentative smile. "You may as well escape with us and get a few hours respite."

Draco looked at him askance. "You're… really serious? All of you?" he asked, his gaze settling on Ron.

Hermione Gave Ron and significant look and he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's fine," he grudgingly agreed. "Just try not to be a complete prat."

"Ron!" Hermione yelled, and smacked him on the arm, eliciting a chuckle from Draco.

"You can't expect miracles, Weasley," he said dryly, glancing at Hermione. "After all, I have it on good authority that I'm an arrogant prick."

Ron muttered something that sounded like, "You got that right," as Hermione flushed at the reference to their earlier conversation. Harry just laughed and draped an arm across Draco's back, his hand clasping Draco's shoulder, sending a tingle of warmth through him that surpassed the physical contact. He allowed them to usher him along as part of their small group, bemused by how, even though there were only three of them, he felt completely surrounded and buffered from everyone else.

"It wouldn't be you if you weren't insulting my hair, my eye sight or my sense of style, Malfoy," Harry said as they headed in the direction of the lake.

"As long as we're in agreement on that," he replied hyper aware of the hand still on his shoulder.

It was a day that had begun like most others at Hogwarts, Draco reflected as they walked, but perhaps it would have a different ending. He was willing to give it a couple of hours and see what happened.

**Author's Note:**

> This work references Lily's Lullaby. The pertinent bit is quoted, but if you would like to read/listen to it, follow the 'inspired by' link.


End file.
